Saturday I turned 33. I think I feel okay about that. I am so immature I don't really mind getting older. The grey hair and wrinkles are a little depressing, but the age thing... it's just a number. So, anyway... I'm 33.
I met a friend for lunch at an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant. I was so sick from all the food I ate, I had a hard time walking out to the car afterward. Yikes. Then after a nice long birthday nap, Ben and I went to the Mayan. Normally, for special occasions, Ben and I go to sushi, but I think I've had enough sushi for the rest of my life. The Mayan was cool. I really like the atmosphere and the shows and the props and the animal noises and the music and... all that stuff.
This is a picture of my Mayan birthday cake.
Thanks for taking me to dinner, hubby. Happy 33rd to me.
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